


These Haunted Halls

by tabbytabbytabby



Series: Game of Thrones Season 8 [5]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Death Fix, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hopeful Ending, Post-Episode: s08e03 The Long Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 11:24:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18659458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tabbytabbytabby/pseuds/tabbytabbytabby
Summary: Sansa finds herself alone after the battle, wandering the halls of Winterfell and remembering what she's lost. Until she finds someone in her room, and realizes she hasn't lost as much as she thought.





	These Haunted Halls

The good news comes first in the form of the dead collapsing around them. The relief Sansa feels almost has her collapsing, but she stays on her feet. She glances at Tyrion to see a look of shock and wonder on his face. They all stand up and walk together to take in the scene before them.

“How are we going to get out of here?” Tyrion asks.

Sansa sighs. It all might be over, but their only way out is lined with bodies. They either have to move them, crawl over them, or wait for someone to come and help them get out. The first two options aren’t ideal, but there’s no telling how long it could be before anyone comes for them. 

Sansa had only caught a glimpse of the carnage before she’d been forced to come below. She can only imagine what it looks like now. 

“We’re going to have to move them,” Sansa says.

Tyrion looks at her, “My Lady?”

“We don’t have a choice,” she tells them. “We don’t know when anyone is going to come for us. If we want out of here, we’ll have to do it ourselves.”

She doesn’t say it will also help them take stock of the ones they lost. She has a feeling they all know that, and that is most likely why no one is rushing forward to get started.

With another sigh, Sansa moves towards the stairs. She starts pulling the corpses away as best she can. She’s not surprised when Tyrion is the first one to join her. After that, the others come, and together they work to clear their way out. 

Sansa’s not sure how long they’re been working before the door above opens. All Sansa can see in the darkness is a shadow framed in the doorway. For a moment she thinks it might be Theon. Then the shadow is brought into the light and she realizes it’s Jon. 

The relief is back as she takes him in. He’s bloody and dirty and looks dead on his feet, but he’s alive. 

“Sansa.”

He stumbles his way down the stairs towards them, helping them to move the rest of the bodies out of the way. Once the path is clear he’s pulling her into his arms. She sinks into his hold, and has to close her eyes as a wave of emotion hits her.

“What happened down here?” he asks them.

“The dead rose from the crypts,” Tyrion tells him.

Jon looks around in alarm. “All of them?”

“Most,” Sansa says. “We didn’t really have time to see who when we were fighting for our lives.”

Jon nods, “No I imagine you didn’t. Are Gilly and Little Sam…?”

Sansa looks to her right, where Gilly stands, her son held tightly in her arms. “We’re alright,” Gilly tells him. “Sam…?”

“He’s alive,” Jon tells her. He looks to Tyrion next. “And Jaime.” 

She looks down to see Tyrion nodding, relief clear on his face. “Podrick and Ser Brienne?”

Sansa has a moment of confusion at Tyrion calling Brienne Ser. It shifts to happiness when Jon confirms she and Podrick are alive. “Your brother and Brienne are… well I saw them together before I came down. They were preoccupied.”

Tyrion smiles, “I imagine they are.”

“We should head up,” Jon says. “I know you all have a lot of questions and people you want to see.”

Sansa starts to follow him as he heads up the stairs, “Jon, what about Arya?”

Jon turns his head, a look of pride on his face. “She’s alive. In fact, we should all be thanking her. We’d be dead if not for her.”

“That you would,” Arya says from somewhere in front of them. Jon steps away when they’re outside and Sansa hurries to Arya. She hugs her tightly, before pulling back to check her over for injuries. “I’m alright. And so is Bran.”

Sansa looks in the direction Arya nods her head to see Bran sitting in his chair. She runs towards him and kneels down to hug him.

“You made it.”

“Theon protected me,” Bran tells her. “He was a good man.”

Sansa feels back, feeling a lump forming in her throat. She’s almost afraid to ask the question, but she needs to know. “Was?”

“He died protecting me from the Night King,” Bran says. “I’m sorry Sansa.”

Sansa stands up. She’s prided herself on holding her composure, but right now she can feel it breaking. Right along with her heart.

Jon comes up and says something to her, but she doesn’t hear the words. Everything seems far away. All she can think about is Theon. He’d come back here for fight for them, and lost his life because of it. 

“Sansa?” 

Sansa turns her head towards Jon. His face is pinched in concern. He reaches out to put a hand on her shoulder but she moves away. “I’m fine. I think I’m going to go for a walk.”

“Do you want someone to come with you?” Jon asks her.

It’s Daenerys that rests a hand on Jon’s arm, “I think Lady Sansa wants a moment alone.”

Sansa knows she should thank her, but she can only manage a nod before she’s turning away. She’s not sure where she plans to go. She just knows she needs to be alone right now. 

She wanders the grounds and then the halls of the castle. Every corner holds a memory, whether they be good or bad. Right now the good memories seem to hurt more than the bad ones. They’re a reminder of all that is gone. All that she’s lost. 

There’s an alcove in the corner where she used to hide with Robb when they were younger and wanted to hide from their parents, or scare Arya and Jon. There’s the room she used to spend hours sewing in with Septa Mordane. And the library, now destroyed, where her mother used to come when she wanted quiet, and where Maester Luwin would read and write his letters. The halls themselves hold memories of her wandering through them, laughing and talking with Jeyne Poole and the other girls. So many memories. So many people that are no longer with them

She knows she could have lost a lot more tonight, including her life. She’s grateful she didn’t, but that doesn’t make the other losses any easier. It doesn’t help the ache she can feel building in her chest at the thought of Theon being gone.

Sansa hurries down the halls and finds herself standing outsider her chamber door. There’s a candle flickering inside. Her hand moves to the dagger Arya had given her. She knows the danger is over, but the thought of someone sneaking into her room has her nerves building. 

She slowly nudges the door open and stills. The knife clatters to the ground and she has to lean against the wall for support. She watches him. Watches the way his chest rises and falls with each breath. 

She closes the door and moves to sit on the edge of her bed. She brings a shaking hand up to brush the dirty hair back from his face. He opens his eyes.

“Lady Sansa.”

Sansa smiles, hastily wiping the tears away that have started to fall. They don’t stop falling. She bows her head as her shoulders start to shake. She can’t remember the last time she cried like this. She’d allowed herself to cry when Rickon had died but had pulled herself together. She hadn’t been able to afford being weak back then.

But now…

A hand comes up to his cheek and she cries harder. “Sansa.”

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I don’t know why I’m crying so much.”

“You’ve been through a lot,” he tells her. “And never allowed yourself to feel it.”

“They told me you were dead,” Sansa says, looking down at Theon.

“I thought I was,” he tells her. “And then I woke up. Everyone was gone, and all I could think was that I needed to find you and make sure you were alright.”

She wipes at her eyes, trying to will the tears away, and her gaze drifts down to Theon’s chest. This is at least something she can focus on. “Your wound…”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s enough that everyone thought you were dead,” Sansa points out.

“That may have been me lying pale and still and seemingly lifeless in the snow,” Theon says.

“Theon…”

He sighs and lifts his shift. There’s a bandage there that’s been clumsily wrapped around him, but there isn’t any blood seeping through. 

“Did you do this yourself?” Sansa asks him.

Theon nods, “As best as I could.”

“Did you clean it?”

“I did.”

“Did you…”

“I know how to clean and dress a wound,” he reminds her. 

“I just don’t want it to get infected,” she tells him. 

“I’m going to be fine,” he says. “I promise.”

“I wish people wouldn’t make promises,” Sansa says. “It’s almost impossible to keep them.”

“You can check it if it makes you feel better,” he tells her.

She watches as he sits up and winces. “Do you want something for the pain?”

He shakes his head, “It doesn’t hurt when I’m not moving.”

“You’re going to have to move eventually.”

“Not tonight,” he says. “Tonight I just want to stay here. Not  _ here _ . In bed. In my room.”

Sansa stands up so that he can’t see her smile, and goes to gather some cloth and the water basin that’s sitting on her table. She returns and sits next to him again. He stays still as she works on unwrapping the bandages from around his chest.

She stills when she sees the large gash there, so close to his heart. She has to wonder how he managed to survive. She swallows and looks away, occupying herself with wetting some of the cloth and bringing it to his chest. It is clean, as he said, but she still washes around and over the wound just to be sure. When she’s done, she lets it dry before moving to wrap a fresh set of bandages around Theon. He lifts his arms, and stays silent as she works.

When she’s done she looks up at him, unsurprised to find him watching her. “You can stay here, Theon.”

“Lady Sansa…”

She shakes her head, “I think we’ve known each other long enough that you can call me Sansa, don’t you?” He nods and she smiles. “Now you’re staying here. If you want to. But I don’t think either of us wants to be alone right now.”

“I don’t,” Theon says. “I’d feel better knowing you’re safe.”

She doesn’t say that the danger is gone. She doesn’t need to. With everything they’ve been through it’s natural to want that reassurance.

She brings a hand up to his cheek, brushing her thumb across his skin until he meets her eyes. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

His hand comes up to cover hers, “And I’m glad you’re safe.”

She rests her forehead against his and closes her eyes. They are safe, at least for now. She tries to take comfort in that.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos/Comments make my day. ♥  
> [My tumblr](http://tabbytabbytabby.tumblr.com/)


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